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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24358270">The Authors' Fantasy Collab!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chalalalalala/pseuds/Chalalalalala'>Chalalalalala</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowcat33/pseuds/willowcat33'>willowcat33</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Escape the Night (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Arguing, Dark Forces, Dungeons &amp; Dragons Campaign, Fantasy, First Kiss, Fluff, Hanahaki Disease, Magic, Miscommunication, Multi, TW: Emotional Abuse/Gaslighting/Manipulation, Temporary Character Death, sorcery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:40:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,629</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24358270</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chalalalalala/pseuds/Chalalalalala, https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowcat33/pseuds/willowcat33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hello everyone, and welcome to the Authors' Fantasy Collab, a project where we try and write a 1-3 chapter fic about, you guessed it, fantasy! Mesmerising mermaids, magic and emotions await, along with many new authors for you to discover!</p><p>Do you want to join the fun, or meet our community?<br/>Join our discord server at discord.gg/WT2DdTj or contact @etnchalalalalala on Instagram!</p><p>Happy reading!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>(indirectly its thru dnd characters), The Detective | Matthew Patrick/The Record Producer | Manny MUA, The Heiress | Sierra Furtado/The Professor | Matt Haag</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Tale of the Sorcerer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi, I'm Chala for everyone reading this, and I'm the organiser of all this! I've been in the fandom since 2017, and writing since 2018! My pronouns are she/her, and I love to write s1 angst, with a sprinkling of fluff here and there. I hope you enjoy my chapter in this mayhem I've created!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Sorcerer was now a fairytale.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, the truth in his name was renowned throughout the land for his legacy, every piece of magic left in this world, but he himself had faded into fiction around the same time as tragedy befell Princess Sierra, heiress to the throne of Everlock. It was rumoured that he and the princess had been fast friends, closer to lovers in opinion of some, and that her death had near broken him.</p><p> </p><p>Why else would he have been exiled?</p><p> </p><p>-=+=-</p><p>It had been summer solstice that day, the light warm and heavy in the air as she chatted idly to the man beside her, toes dipping in the deliciously cold water. Matthew, her companion, waved his fingers to create sparkling images, extraordinarily realistic ones, to tell the story of the events in the marketplace today, making her giggle with his animated gestures and voices of the thieves and the woman who had stopped them. Anyone with half of an eye could see the affection in their gazes as the two of them shared ideas and apples, musing over the vast blue of the lake in front of them. Matthew was a rare kind of man as a pursuer of magic, even rarer for the fact he wasn’t uptight, or pompous, or ancient. He was likable, and to the lovers’ joy, Sierra’s parents liked him too and offered him a place in their court. They were merry, closer now than ever before and life was idyllic.</p><p> </p><p>Until that day.</p><p> </p><p>Unbeknownst to Matt and his loved ones, his magic had angered an archaic force in the land. The darkness he had vanquished in his time as Sorcerer had left a small crack right below his feet, waiting for an ideal moment to swallow his soul whole. Today, despite the fact it was at its weakest, was the day it had chosen to strike.</p><p> </p><p>While Matt turned away to negotiate with his patrons, two long, shadowy shapes appeared in the corner of Sierra’s eye. To her, they stretched into humanoid curiosities, enticing her towards them. For all the King and Queens’ parenting virtues, they’d made a vital, fatal mistake in their ways. The princess’ curiosity and freedom had been heavily limited, leaving it to flourish in isolation. These figures stretched and grew to fill the sides of her vision, begging her to follow them.</p><p> </p><p>So follow them she did, wandering away in almost a trance from an unfortunately distracted sorcerer, who turned around minutes later to find himself alone. In a panicked frenzy, the man searched the area to find her tiara on the ground, nestled in the roots of the forest outskirts. He paled, his mind catching on to what had been released and he dashed into the woods, screaming her name.</p><p> </p><p>Legend has it that if you walk the same path as his, you can hear cries of “Sierra! Sierra!”</p><p> </p><p>The princess couldn’t hear him; the creatures had her enraptured in their inhuman beauty and shadowy grace, drawing her ever closer to a fate so steep she couldn’t escape it. Further through the trees she stumbled, eyes wide and curious and pure. Unaware of her lover’s panicked steps following hers a hundred yards or so behind, him catching a glimpse of her white dress once or twice in the green tinted sunlight. Still she stumbled, and still he followed desperately, the mockery of those he’d angered echoing through the branches.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually she reached a clearing, wide and muted and unfamiliar to her. This wasn’t her palace, or her kingdom! She shivered, eyes squinting in shock and realisation as she sees nothing around her that she recognises, body now clear of whatever trance captivated her before. Emerald tinted light framed her figure as she turned back towards the forest, seeing naught there but a figure rushing towards her, yelling muffled by the ringing in her ears. She screamed, fear and loneliness and confusion opening her mouth wide, wide open.</p><p> </p><p>What she couldn’t see in this clearing, wide and muted and unfamiliar, was the black smoke circling her viciously that Matt was rushing towards, yelling frantically for it to leave her alone, for it to take him instead just leave her unharmed-</p><p> </p><p>-Her scream of terror sealed her fate, as the circling cloud filled her throat, cutting her off from any sort of air. The look she gave him of certainty, certainty that she was going to die here in front of him was burned into his skull forever as he cried out in anguish.</p><p> </p><p>It was agonisingly slow, the force suspending her in midair as her veins turned black, Matt falling to his knees beside her as she kicked her legs weakly, trying to escape. Words weren’t enough to speak of all the things the pair wished to say in those moments, so there they stayed, the silence filled with sniffles and choking. For everyone else, her life took a minute to destroy. To them? It was eternity wasted.</p><p> </p><p>Once she crumpled at his side, sick laughter rang through the forest, mocking the small man who in the end, was powerless to save those he cared about.</p><p> </p><p>-=+=-</p><p>As far as anyone else is concerned, Princess Sierra drowned in a lake, and the Sorcerer was powerless to save her. He hid the markings of the force deep under a glamour so her family were unaware of the threat that plagued him and those he cared about. The family, rightfully, were furious and cast him out of the court. From there, the existence of Sorcerer Haag disappears farther and farther into the pages of storybooks, legend foretelling that he travelled as a hermit, learning and honing his craft in the hope that someday, he would be able to defeat the dark forces that killed the woman he loved.</p><p> </p><p>At least, as the once proud man left the gates of his newly found home and the kingdom of Everlock, that’s how he hoped his story would be told.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. the scent of rotting flowers covered by perfume</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>""un""requited feelings, accidental deaths, and some oblivious idiots. put it together, and what do you get? a recipe for disaster, shenanigans, and a whole lot of fluff too (i promise)!!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey! i’m tea! they/them please- i write for etn and a few other fandoms, feel free to ask which ones if you’re curious or something. also sorry this beginning note is so godsdamned long-</p><p>and uhh okay so head up this isnt classic etn but its from an au in which the s3 gang will be playing D&amp;D which is technically a fantasy au. technically. this is about their characters!!! because im weak for them and chala said it was okay. main fic for this au will be out,, at uh,, somepoint ksjadjskdf anyway-</p><p>brynn keeperbee - ro<br/>malachite groundbreaker- matpat<br/>whimsy graylock - manny<br/>genesis graylock - nikita<br/>otto de vallien - roi<br/>elderberry “ellie” timbers - teala<br/>aliana nightwanderer - safiya<br/>dyana honeysong - colleen<br/>joey isnt in it and jc is the dungeon master so theres your context! okay okay fic time</p><p>tws: violence, minor gore, character death, miscommunication and uh Fightin<br/>its flUFFY AT THE END I S W EAR</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Whimsy has fucked up. He’s truly and utterly </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucked up </span>
  </em>
  <span>and as he stares at the evidence of this, his heart sinks down to his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Said evidence, of course, being a pile of flower petals that he’s just hacked up. He has no idea what kind of flower they’re from; that’s more Ellie and Brynn’s place of expertise. All he knows is that some of them are green, some of them are yellow, and all of them are dangerous. Dangerous, because he knows </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>what this is. Everyone does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembers asking about it, asking his mother about this mysterious hanahaki disease. She’d smiled sadly as she’d tucked him and Genesis into bed that night.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s what happens when you love someone and they don’t love you back. You grow flowers inside of you, and you cough them up.”, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he remembers her saying.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Won’t that kill you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh, oh no, honey, don’t worry. It hurts, sure, and it’s an inconvenience, but you don’t die from it, at the least.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Whimsy thinks, dragging himself out of memories as he wipes his mouth, sitting back on his legs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>At least it won’t kill me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>To be frank, he doesn’t care too much about the disease for now. Sure, it’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but it’s not going to kill him, right? So how bad could it be?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What he’s worried about, the real danger here, is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>feelings. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Because if there’s one thing him - and his sister, for that matter - have never been good at, it’s feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whimsy! There you are, we were all worried- oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Is that what I think it is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if on cue, Genesis comes hurrying into the clearing that Whimsy had raced off to when he felt like he was going to vomit. Her red eyes gaze at the petals with a mixture of shock and dread, before flicking up to focus on the tiefling hunched over on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, what do you think it is?” Whimsy says, throat dry as he coughs up a stray petal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Genesis sighs, pushing a hand through her short, silver locks. “Who is it? Dear </span>
  <em>
    <span>gods, </span>
  </em>
  <span>please say it's not Otto, I can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>stand </span>
  </em>
  <span>his dumb ass-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not Otto. It’s… it’s Malachite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Genesis sucks in a breath through her teeth. “Well, could’ve been worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you think?” Whimsy deadpans, standing up and stretching, the quiet click and crack of his bones popping punctuating the silence as Genesis narrows her eyes, thinking. Once he’s done, he deftly kicks the piles of petals under a bush. “But eh, I’m sure it's fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Genesis arches an eyebrow, her piercing gleaming in the afternoon sun. “Ignoring the fact you went and caught </span>
  <em>
    <span>feelings </span>
  </em>
  <span>for him? How did that even </span>
  <em>
    <span>happen?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Whimsy thinks about Malachite’s soft smile. About the sheer power that the warlock exudes in battle, and how it sends shivers down Whimsy’s spine. About the soft and kind way, he handles every group issue. About, well, everything that is Malachite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“....don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Bull</span>
  </em>
  <span>shit, Whimsy!” Genesis laughs, before her expression softens into a half-smile. “But you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. Keep your gay-ass secrets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whimsy groans, velvet grey cheeks flushed dark with embarrassment. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t tell him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t, I won’t! You really should, though. Seriously. But I’m not going to tell him for you, because a) that would be shitty of me, and b) you’re a big boy now you can do it yourself!” She teases, poking him in the ribs lightly before hopping back so he can’t swat her away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wanna get back to the others?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whimsy nods, casting a glance back at the semi-obscured evidence of his crush once more before following his sister back to camp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If there’s one thing the Graylock siblings know how to do, it is cover things up. So Whimsy’s new condition is easy enough to keep away from the others, seeing as he doesn’t want them to know. And as much as Genesis tries to convince him that maybe he really should talk to Malachite about this, Whimsy is as stubborn as ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides, the other thing the Graylock siblings are is </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrible </span>
  </em>
  <span>at feelings. But still, it isn’t an unmanageable problem- for a few weeks, that is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It happens in the middle of a fight against a pair of trolls that should never have been in this mountain range in the first place, so the Hope Brigade had been hired to drive them off. As always, Whimsy acts fast, thinks fast, and moves faster. He pummels the side of a troll with a flurry of blows, satisfaction rushing through him at the roar of pain and the crack of bone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He goes to hop back out of the way of the next swing as the troll retaliates but suddenly he can’t move, and he can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he stumbles, coughing and hacking. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not now, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks desperately at the now-familiar shifting of flower petals from his throat to his mouth, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I have to move, I have to get out of the way-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>CRACK.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels the impact of the troll’s club against his ribcage, feels the bones splinter inwards and suddenly he’s gasping for a breath he can’t catch and everything is </span>
  <em>
    <span>painful </span>
  </em>
  <span>and it hurts so </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad, make it stop, make it stop, please-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The last thing he knows before the darkness swallows his senses is the ground rushing up to meet him and the sound of Genesis shrieking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malachite sees it. Malachite sees, with sickening horror, as Whimsy's whole chest goes concave from the troll's blow. Malachite sees, frozen with shock, as Whimsy gasps a painful breath before stumbling and collapsing into an unmoving heap on the ground. Malachite sees as Genesis sees, watches as she cries out in pain and anguish and grief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rogue reflexively stabs one of her daggers into the eye of the ogre she's fighting, not even looking before she hits the target. She darts toward her brother, cloak billowing out behind her as she probably skins her knees as she slides next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malachite doesn't see much then, but he catches her brushing something away from Whimsy's mouth before checking for a pulse. Judging by the way that her breath catches and she screams for Brynn, well, Malachite would have said that was answer enough as his heart drops. But there's little to nothing he can do now; except for distracting the troll and keep it away from Whimsy's body, a distraught Genesis, and Brynn, who's about to rush towards them to help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he fires two eldritch blasts into the trolls chest, protective fury coiling in his gut for what's been done to Whimsy. He can feel Gaia's hand on his shoulder, her massive form still not corporeal or visible to anyone else as she eggs him on.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bang. Bang.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The second blast is more punctuated, makes Malachites eyes go fully so dark green they're almost black before blinks and everything's fine. That is, apart from the heavily bleeding troll with rocks sucking him into the ground; he's not fine. In fact, by the time Malachite let's go of a spell he hadn't realised he'd started casting, he's disappeared beneath the surface entirely.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Good riddance, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Malachite thinks, narrowing his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time he's caught his breath, Ellie's loosed two, three, four arrows into the neck of the other troll. With Otto's help, and a well-timed bit of inspiration from Dyana, the other troll is felled too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aliana is at Genesis's side, offering her hand to clutch as the tiefling leans into Aliana for support. Malachite knows first hand how wickedly strong Genesis's grip is - especially when anxious or upset - and yet Aliana doesn't even flinch as she holds Genesis close and lets her cry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brynn rummages hastily through her bag, pulling out a diamond and placing it on Whimsy's chest. It slides down, rolling slowly into a dip in his chest that should never have been there. Still, she splays her hands across him, murmuring to herself as Malachite approaches and her hands begin to glow with divine light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malachite turns away from the sight, feeling nausea push at his throat at the sound of bones snapping and cracking back into place. The warlock paces back and forth behind the body of Whimsy, unable to slow the whirling thoughts and panic in his head, still running on pure adrenaline because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>can't </span>
  </em>
  <span>lose Whimsy he </span>
  <em>
    <span>refuses-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Whimsy gasps awake, whole chest arching into stealing breath back. Brynn breathes a sigh of relief, sitting back on her knees, satisfaction at a job well done warming her soul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malachite stops his pacing, a smile breaking across his face as Whimsy comes back to them, sitting up slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whimsy smiles weakly at him as their eyes catch, and Malachite puts the butterflies in his belly and the warmth in his cheeks down to relief at not losing Whimsy forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's been a few days since Whimsy died and came back. Genesis has barely left his side apart from when he needs privacy since, anxiously fussing over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's one afternoon that she points something out, something that makes the pieces fall into place and identifies the feeling of something being off that he's had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have you stopped coughing flowers?"  Genesis asks, picking at her nails with a dagger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whimsy blinks. "Oh. I suppose I have, yeah."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She raises an eyebrow in half disbelief, throwing her dagger at a tree and getting it to stick. "So no more icky feelings? I doubt that, somehow."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey!" He protests, shoving her playfully. "I'm tough! I don't do feelings."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sure </span>
  </em>
  <span>you don't. Uh-huh. Totally the only explanation," Genesis deadpans, standing up and retrieving her dagger. "I'm going to go talk to Malachite."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And tell him what, exactly?!" Whimsy shoots up, alarmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hah! </span>
  </em>
  <span>You still like him!' She teases. "He said he wanted to talk to me though, I don't know what for. I trust him though; if he asks questions, I don't want to lie to him. That okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whimsy nibbles at his lips anxiously whilst he thinks. "Okay. If he asks… you can tell him."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Genesis smiles in relief. "Thanks, Whim. I'll let you know if I tell him."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whimsy smiles back as she flicks a wave to him from over her shoulder. He tries to ignore the opening pit of dread in his stomach at the thought of Malachite knowing everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So what was it you wanted to talk about?" Genesis asks, sitting in a tree and swinging her legs as she looks down at Malachite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The warlock sighs, rubbing at his eyes as he sits on a log. Anxiety forms a hardened and guilty knot in the pit of his stomach as he lifts his head to speak to Genesis. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whimsy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Genesis raises an eyebrow, going still for a moment. “What about him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The drop in tone from chirpy to serious nearly makes Malachite throw up with nervousness. Genesis is lethal; this is something he knows. He’s seen the way she can cut down an enemy in the blink of an eye, seen the calm smile on her face as she slips poison into a corrupt politician’s wine and the smirk as he falls dead at her feet. He's afraid that the confession he needs to make will end up with him another corpse in her wake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But for now, that's not the way she looks at him. With curiosity? Yes. Malice? No.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not yet, at least,</span>
  </em>
  <span> something grim in the back of his head reminds him. Malachite swallows, his words sticking in his throat when he tries to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Out with it, Malachite." She teases, before her eyebrows furrow at his distress. "Seriously- is there a problem? Because you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>one of my best friends even if he is my brother and-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think I've got a crush on Whimsy!" Malachite blurts out before he can stop himself, eyes squeezed shut</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is silence in the clearing for one beat, then two, </span>
  <em>
    <span>several </span>
  </em>
  <span>moments before Genesis responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You </span>
  <em>
    <span>think, </span>
  </em>
  <span>or you know?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...I know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There's the sound of a sigh, and boots crunching against the leaves as Genesis hope down from her perch and strolls over casually to Malachite. The warlock's eyes are still tightly closed, his head resting in his hands. It takes Genesis setting a hand on his shoulder for him to even dare to peek up at her. He lets out a breath he hadn't quite realised he was holding as it sinks in that she doesn't look mad, or upset.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You are both such </span>
  <em>
    <span>idiots</span>
  </em>
  <span>." She laughs at the situation, but the laugh is not unkind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What? What do you mean?" Malachite blinks, lifting his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolls her eyes, pulling her hand away and crossing her legs to sit more comfortably. "We all saw what happened when he died, yeah?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"... yes?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He only froze up because he was coughing." Genesis says as she sticks a hand in one of her pockets, rummaging around for something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malachite nods wordlessly, wondering where she's going with this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then it all starts falling into place as she fishes out a dried green petal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is what he'd been coughing." Before Malachite can answer, she nods tersely. "Hanahaki disease."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>gods." </span>
  </em>
  <span>Something then clicks in his head, and his eyes widen. "Wait- was it because of-'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yup."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malachite's heart soars for a second at the thought of Whimsy returning his feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Genesis smirks, teasing. "But the petals have stopped now, and I think I know why."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span> The loss of feelings is the only way Hanahaki can stop, if Malachite is correct. He tries to keep up a smile even as something shatters in his chest, and barely held-back tears sting the back of his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Awesome. Thank you for telling me, Genesis." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If she notices the say his voice cracks or notices how his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, she doesn't say anything. Instead, she stands up, stretching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good luck." She chuckles as she claps him on the shoulder affectionately. The sentence feels like another knife to the heart and he can only hold out til Genesis is </span>
  <em>
    <span>barely</span>
  </em>
  <span> out of earshot before he starts sobbing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hot tears roll down his cheeks and onto the forest floor as he sobs, heartbroken and so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>angry with himself. Of course Whimsy would get over him- what does he have to offer that makes him so great? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And, even if it's indirectly, the fact that he is responsible for the albeit temporary death of his friend and crush breaks him too. He feels so, so stupid for not noticing and so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>stupid for not doing anything about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malachite sobs and cries and whimpers into the knees of his trousers until there are damp marks on them and he's hiccuping softly, no more tears left for him to even cry. He keeps expecting petals with every spluttered breath but doesn't have the wherewithal to care when they don't appear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels the warmth of his patron swirling around him, her ghostly hands cupping his face and softly shushing him. Tingles dance across his skin from her fingers as she brushes away tears but even Gaia's presence does not soothe the heartbreak and the guilt that he feels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, though, he regains self-control. And with the control, and a deep breath, he comes up with a plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It's better this way, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he convinces himself as he starts heading back towards camp. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This way, neither of us can be hurt by the other.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whimsy is </span>
  <em>
    <span>pissed. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He tries not to be, not with the Hope Brigade, because they're his family but this is one of the rare occasions that he just can't help it. And it's all Malachite's fault.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The warlock has been avoiding him, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. If Malachite thinks Whimsy doesn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span> how he scurries away from him, how they don't talk anymore, or how Malachite seems to be taking every opportunity to do something with anyone else, then he's oblivious. And an </span>
  <em>
    <span>idiot.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn't like the way bitterness curls in his throat at the sight of Malachite. Whimsy knows he'll have to confront him soon but he's so angry, and upset, and truth be told as irritated as he is he's moreso terrified of hurting Malachite. He doesn't want to lose the warlock, no matter how annoyed he is, but the source of annoyance is Malachite trying to drift away anyway, so he doesn't know what to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But one day, they're gathering firewood together. It's near the clearing where the others are setting up camp, but they're still alone together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, I've got a decent bundle, I'm going to get going, </span>
  <em>
    <span>seeyoulaterbye-" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Malachite hurries, nearly tripping over his feet in his rush to get out of there. But the sound of Whimsy's voice, rough and angry and </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span> behind him stops him dead in his tracks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hold it, Groundbreaker."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reluctantly, Malachite turns around. He raises an eyebrow at Whimsy's tone of voice. "What's up?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What did I do wrong?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words come tumbling out before Whimsy can stop them. He'd meant to say something cutting, or to the point, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>no </span>
  </em>
  <span>his dumbass brain just spat out the first phrase it thought of. Now he doesn't sound angry… he just sounds sad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malachite blinks, supposedly shocked. "W-what?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You heard me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You didn't do anything Whimsy, I have no idea what you're on about-" Malachite tries to continue, but Whimsy cuts him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, please, don't try any of that </span>
  <em>
    <span>bullshit </span>
  </em>
  <span>with me!' He snaps, setting down his own firewood. "You don't even want to fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> at me anymore and I'm supposed to believe that everything's alright?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malachite flinches. "That's not- no- it's not your fault-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>really? </span>
  </em>
  <span>So who's fault is it, the trees'?" Whimsy glares. He's properly pissed off now, as much as he's </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried </span>
  </em>
  <span>to control his temper. His tail lashes back and forth behind him as he balls his hands into fists, ignoring the way his nails nearly dig into the flesh from how tightly he's clenching them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Whimsy. It always has been. You've done nothing wrong," Malachite sighs, shrinking in on himself and he just looks so very sad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So what did </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>do then, hm?" Whimsy prompts expectantly. "What's so terrible that it means you won't even give me the time of day?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malachite wheels around to face him, dropping his firewood onto the forest floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't understand! I'm trying to protect us </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>here!" The warlock snaps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whimsy raises an eyebrow, trying not to let it show that Malachite getting angry is as unsettling and terrifying as it is rare. "Gods, you just sound like a fucking edgelord. Can we stop with the self-sacrificial bullshit for like, two seconds?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's not- I got you fucking killed, Whimsy! I can't forgive myself for that, and I sure as eggs is eggs can't risk it happening </span>
  <em>
    <span>again.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Malachite blurts out, snapping anger tugging the words from his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whimsy blinks. Suddenly more confused than angry, he narrows his eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Got me killed? What in the nine hells is he on about?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not that that </span>
  <em>
    <span>would </span>
  </em>
  <span>happen again. You… you made the right choice in not loving me anymore." The anger fades from Malachite's voice and he looks away, avoiding Whimsy's gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...so Genesis told you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malachite nods, mumbling something so quiet that even Whimsy can't quite make it out.</span>
</p><p><span>"Speak up, Groundbreaker, Gods." Whimsy is being overly snippy, and he </span><em><span>knows </span></em><span>it,</span> <span>but anger seems to be the only way he can even attempt to process this information.</span></p><p>
  <span>"I'm gonna start coughing godsforsaken flowers any day now, and I can't let you see me like that!" Malachite repeats, his face flushed and Whimsy can't tell if it's from anger or flustered embarrassment as he puts the pieces together in his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...are we idiots?" The tiefling thinks aloud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"W-what?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not coughing flowers anymore. And you haven't started them, even though it's been what, a good week if we're going by the amount of time you've been avoiding me." Whimsy can't help the note of bitterness that creeps its way into his voice at that, but he takes a breath to calm himself before continuing. "And I don't cough flowers anymore, and you're not coughing them, because neither of us has </span>
  <em>
    <span>unrequited </span>
  </em>
  <span>feelings</span>
  <em>
    <span>."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Malachite sucks in a breath through his teeth as he comes to the same realisation. "So you're saying you still…?" He trails off, hoping Whimsy will catch his drift.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I- yeah, I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>sorry about all of this-" Whimsy chuckles awkwardly, shoving a hand through his silver hair out of nervous habit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I am too…" Malachite's apology is underwhelming and he knows it but he's far too distracted by the thoughts of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Whimsy still loves me, oh, oh my gods, </span>
  </em>
  <span>that race through his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instinctively, Whimsy's already moving across the clearing to stand close to Malachite. The warlock swallows thickly, eyes glancing from Whimsy's eyes to his lips and then back up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Would it be stupid of me to ask if I could kiss you now?" Malachite murmurs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whimsy grins, giving him his answer in the form of pressing his lips to his. Kissing Malachite is his favourite thing ever, is his first immediate thought before he's distracted by how Malachite pulls him closer. The genasi's lips are warm and soft, and he tastes like harvest time and warmth and </span>
  <em>
    <span>home.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The two are distracted momentarily from each other only for a moment. A leaf, caught on the wind, brushes each of their cheeks before tumbling on past again as somewhere on the celestial plane, a certain Titan is laughing in relief at these two idiots.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>woop woop i hope you enjoyed that! if you did please leave a comment they make me uwu!!!<br/>&lt;3!!<br/>- tea</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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